


A New Kind of Evil

by AutobotGuy710



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Child Neglect, Childhood Sexual Abuse, Former Sex Slave, Hunting Sex Traffickers, Jazz as a Father Figure, Lots of Trauma Recovery, Other, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, lots of fluff, lots of hurt/comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-30
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-21 22:31:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11954025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AutobotGuy710/pseuds/AutobotGuy710
Summary: During his time in the war, Jazz has seen many evils. But none of those could prepare him, or the other Autobots, for a truly evil crime among humans that unexpectedly lands on their doorstep: the act of child trafficking.NOTE: The archive warnings are all simply about the SUBJECT MATTER. The story in NO WAY contains any of this, but it will be referenced. You have been warned





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic on here! This is my darkest fic, but still one of my favorites at the moment! It deals with very dark subject matter. Such as child prostitution, sex slavery, and human trafficking. While none of it is shown directly, we will get into it as it goes along. Therefore, you have been warned, it's not for the faint of heart! 
> 
> I don't know how strict things are on here, so I am putting it under Mature, just in case!
> 
> This has 9 chapters done already but I will upload them over the next few days.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Transformers, only Conner and my other OCs!

CHAPTER 1  
An Escape in the Night

His lungs burned with every passing breath, knees quivering, and body shaking.

In the darkness of the night, he could still hear his pursuers. Their boots hit the ground at a fast rate, and their dogs sniffed and barked loudly as they lead the way. Tears stung his eyes as he turned to dare a look into the darkness, but thankfully, it seemed that Conner Banning had seemingly kept some distance up ahead of the men that currently kept him captive.

He'd changed many hands since he was kidnapped at five years old. The people he'd belonged to ranging from modern day slavers who ran big farms or houses, to disgruntled families whose children were taken from them for good reason, to big, posh businessmen with a "thing" for young boys and no desire to be caught.

They said that slavery was dead in America, and had been or a long time. But Conner was living proof that was a lie.

He hardly remembered being taken, as it had been so long ago. He'd been playing just outside his home, if he remembered correctly. A nice home in a nice community, too. Sure, that had made the beat up truck seem suspicious, but at five he hadn't thought much of it. Not until the two men had leapt out, and dragged him kicking and screaming inside.

The police looked for him for months, with his original captor, a man who ran an illegal "sweatshop" type of workhouse, watching very closely. He remembered that his parents were greatly upset - and tried hard to find him too... A fact which he now found odd given how few "happy" memories he had of them left. A part of him had always wondered if it was an act, especially as his captors had drilled into him how he was unloved, uncared for, and sold to them...

He often wondered if it was true. Had they really sold him into this life?

Whatever the case, eventually, the police stopped searching. His case went cold, and no one was looking for him anymore, as far as he knew. Conner had just turned thirteen, meaning he'd spent the last eight years among this small ring of slavers that operated out of North America. Hardly anyone probably thought he was alive, let alone thought of looking further for him.

How he'd finally gotten the courage to make the run for help, he wasn't sure of. Maybe it was that he'd finally had enough, maybe it was all those years of anger being pent up in his body. But that night, when the man he'd currently "belonged" to came into his bedroom, he'd taken a piece of glass he'd broken off his window, and stabbed him in the leg.

There hadn't been time to grab what little possessions he had. Instead, he'd taken off into the night with the other men who'd lived in the home in hot pursuit. The Oregon night air was cold, and a part of him wanted to stop. But at the same time he knew if he did now, he'd be thoroughly punished by his captors, maybe even killed and buried in some unmarked grave like so many threatened.

His brown eyes searched quietly for somewhere to hide. And though it took some time, just when he'd about given up he found it: a hollow log. It was with great difficulty that he managed to move his thin body inside of it, and lay there, but at last, he'd managed.

No more than five minutes later, he heard the men.

The dogs were barking more loudly now, sniffing all around. It was all that Conner could do to keep himself from whimpering as they came closer and closer. "Damn mutts, we've been searching for hours," he heard one of them hiss. "Where is that brat?"

"I don't know. Maybe he went further in."

"Probably did," the first voice responded a groan escaping his lips. "This is gonna suck. If we lose him, not only are we gonna have to pack up and vacate... But Drake's gonna be so pissed. He really liked that kid."

"I always thought he was a dirty little thing," the second voice mused. "I like mine bigger, more meat."

They continued to stand there for a while, and all the while, the dogs sniffed. Conner knew that at any moment, they could give away his location. That the men could take him by his legs, and drag him out and back to their cabin. Tears stung his eyes as he closed them, waiting for that dreaded moment. They made it sound like they'd want him alive. But in all reality, he'd rather just be dead and get it over with. Anything was better than this, ANYTHING.

There was a loud grunt, and then the first voice spoke up again. "Alright, let's get out of here. Keep moving... He can't have gotten far."

And then they were gone.

Conner could hardly believe it, but the dogs had moved on too. And soon, he could hear the footsteps, and barking getting fainter, and fainter, until he couldn't hear them at all.

It would be another two hours before he allowed himself to squirm free. It was even darker than it had been when he'd fled the cabin, and he could barely see anything in the forest. He couldn't hear anyone either, which was a great blessing...

He was free. He couldn't believe it, but he'd done it.

Standing to his feet, he realized he had a new problem: getting out of the forest. In his time there, he hadn't seen any nearby roads. He'd been brought to the cabin in a trunk, so he had no idea where to even start either. All he could see was the dormant volcano, Mount St. Hillary that the men had mentioned in the distance, and lots of trees.

He hugged himself slightly, rubbing his arms in a futile attempt to keep warm. And with what courage he had, braved the walk in the direction of the dormant volcano. A location like that might have meant hikers, people, help... Help... Would anyone even believe him? Would anyone even know who he was?

He could only wonder all of this as he silently dragged himself towards his destination.  
\---------------------------------------

Jazz had seen a lot of humans in his life, but this... This was something else.

His patrol had been mostly uneventful, given the lack of activity at this time of the evening. In fact, he'd been ready to pull out and drive back to The Ark when he'd found something was amiss... At first, when he'd been driving near the edge of the forest, he'd thought the child was some sort of plant. But upon closer inspection, he'd found otherwise - much to his disturbance.

Jazz had seen a lot of humans, that was true. But this boy...

The child had to be in young adolescence, Jazz figured by his bone structure. But he was so small for his age, he could have still passed for a young kid. He looked to be fed, but at the same time, he didn't appear to be getting fed enough, seemingly more skinny than the special ops bot liked. But that wasn't even the most concerning, no - those were the bruises. The deep, dark colored bruises that lined either of his arms, and what he could see of his back.

The boy lay on the ground unconscious, by the looks of it having collapsed from exhaustion. He barely wore anything on his body. Simply dressed in an oversized night shirt that was marked "XXXL" and a pair of underwear, which told him that wherever this boy came from, he wasn't a camper. No, this looked like someone who'd been running from something - or someone.

Moving one hand underneath the collapsed boy, he carefully lifted him. Thankful to find he was indeed only passed out, given his stomach moved up and down with rythm. But none-the-less, feeling his tanks churn as he tried to process where this boy came from. What was he doing half-naked and alone out in the middle of November? Where were his parents? Why'd he look as though he hadn't even seen the sunlight in several months?

"Yo, doc bot you awake?"

Jazz waited a good minute before he got Ratchet's response. "I am now. Better have a good reason to be waking me up this early..."

"I need ye to open up the med bay. I have a possible emergency."

"Slaggit, Jazz. What did you do to yourself NOW?"

Jazz frowned slightly, not amused at all. What had he done? OK, sure, he was probably just as danger prone as the twins, but he wasn't THAT bad. "Not for me... It's for a human."

"Excuse me?"

"I've got a half-naked teenager lying with severe bruising at the edge of the forest," Jazz replied, trying to keep calm. "I'd say the little fella just wandered away from camp. But slag... This kid looks like he's in really bad shape, doc."

"Bring him to me at once," Ratchet didn't even hesitate, and Jazz wasn't surprised given the description he gave. "Get him inside your alt mode and warmed up. In this weather he has a good chance of catching a cold or worse..."

"You got it."

Jazz was careful to transfom around the young human, blasting the warm air in his cab. The boy barely stirred, quiet whimpers escaping his form, though he showed no signs of waking. Yet Jazz wished he would, given the fact that it would help to know where this boy came from... If they could call anyone to help him. After all, he highly doubted that a young child had no one out looking for him.

Using his car mode, he decided to make a quiet scan of the area. Perhaps there was someone nearby who could answer his questions. Or perhaps some sort of clue... But he found none. There were no other humans nearby, and the boy seemed to carry nothing on him. Nothing but the clothes he wore on his back.

A half-naked boy in the dead of winter... Exposed to the elements.

Jazz hated where his mind was already going with this.  
\------------------------

"And you found him at the edge of the forest?"

Ratchet had the child on a medical berth at once, carefully examining him. Jazz himself was close by, looking down upon the human as well. He had been curious about what Ratchet might have to say on the matter, after all, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to know where this boy had come from should he have woken up.

He nodded his head slowly, looking him over again. "Yeah, kid was just laying there... Like he'd collapsed," Jazz explained as he got closer toward the subject at hand. "What does it look like to you, doc bot?"

Ratchet shook his head slowly, looking the boy up and down. Jazz could tell that Ratchet was equally stumped by the whole thing. "I don't know. But these bruises seem to tell me he was in a struggle recently," he noted, trying to keep calm. "One he lost badly. In fact, I would say it was one-sided."

"But he tried to fight back?"

Ratchet nodded his head. "I would say perhaps he's a victim of sexual assault left for dead. Something I hear sometimes happens on this planet. The lack of clothing makes me lean toward that," he explained, his voice cracking at the very idea. "But we shouldn't jump too far to conclusions until he's awake and we can speak to him ourselves."

Jazz nodded his head sadly. Looking down at the boy with sympathy in his spark. Whoever had hurt the boy, he already knew them to be a coward. Because no matter how one could paint the picture, a boy like this coming out of a one-sided fight looking this way... He cringed inwardly at the thought of what it could mean. After all, though Earth was a violent place, there were terrible things done to the young on Cybertron - especially those in the caste system.

After a moment, he looked over at Ratchet quietly. "We need to tell Prime about this."

"I'm already working on that," Ratchet replied. "With how weak the boy is he could be unconscious for a couple of hours, or even a couple of days. So he needs to know about our new visitor at the very least."

Jazz nodded his head, turning around to leave the med bay. "Let me know if the li'l guy wakes up, will ye doc?" he asked, his voice tense. "May not know this kid. But I'm the one who found 'im. I wanna know if he's gonna be OK."

"I'll let you know when I accept visitors if he's awake," Ratchet replied, of course he would put it that way. "For now, you should go, leave me to work on his injuries."

"Whatever you say."

Jazz gave one last look over his shoulder at the boy. Silently, he hoped whatever this boy had gone through, the ordeal was over now. That he could put it behind him, and get the help he needed.

Little did he know just how deep this went... Or what it meant for him, and the boy.


	2. Speculation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conner wakes up!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this got a lot of response! Loving it! So posting up the second chapter sooner than I expected to! :D

CHAPTER 2  
Speculation

"Where am I!? What is this!?

"Shhhh young one, you're safe now, please relax."

Ratchet watched as the young boy trembled, but tried to keep calm. He d no idea who this boy was, or what he was going through, and thus, keeping his cool was necessary. Carefully approaching the boy again, he watched as the boy scooted further away, attempting not to freak out. "My name's Ratchet," he offered. "And I promise you I am not going to hurt you... In fact I may very well have saved your life."

The boy sat there for a long moment, eyes tracing Ratchet. After a moment though, the medic nodded his head. "Would you like some real clothes? A friend of mine has brought some here for you," Ratchet explained, trying to be gentle. "Your clothes were so torn, and you are barely dressed."

The boy stared down as Ratchet set clothes in front of him. There was a clean pair of jeans, underwear, and a t-shirt. Ratchet watched as the dirty blonde teen looked from it, and then to him. "You won't hurt me...?" he asked in a raspy, and fearful voice. "Even if I get dressed?"

"I offered you the clothes, didn't I?"

Taking the hint, Ratchet turned around slowly. It was a long few moments as he heard rustling, slow but deliberate. It was clear that the boy was in severe pain from the bruises and that made it something for the medic to watch. "Where am I...?" He heard the child ask.

"Mount St. Hillary," Ratchet replied. "A ship called "The Ark"."

"A spaceship?"

"Yes," Ratchet turned to find the boy had slowly dressed in the clothes offered. "Young one, I do not mean to be curt. But we found you half-naked in the woods... Can you tell me where you came from? Who hurt you?"

The boy looked scared at the notion. Perhaps fearful of whoever it was that had done it to him. After a long moment, he tried to keep his utmost cool. "Conner," the boy, now named "Conner", managed. "And I um... I don't know his name. They never gave me their real names... He told me to call him "dad"."

Well then, this certainly wasn't the work of his parents. Or the man wouldn't have had to ask him to call him that. Ratchet bristled slowly, looking down upon the boy. "And where you came from?"

Conner was silent, trying to ascertain an answer there. "A cabin... But I used to live in an apartment. And before that I was in a warehouse," he replied. "Then a home in the suburbs, and..."

"A cabin was the only answer I needed," Ratchet paused. "I don't suppose you'll tell me what happened or what you were doing there..."

Conner looked thoughtful, not wanting to do that just yet. After all, how did he know he could trust them? These were clearly aliens... Giant robot aliens. And while this one seemed nice for all he knew, "Ratchet" was going to turn him over to the people he just came from. After all, he couldn't remember where he came from - or if Conner was even his real name by now.

Ratchet nodded his head passively. He understood that, given all that he could tell from looking at him. This boy clearly did not know what was happening here, or who they were. The fact they got a name was enough for the moment. "I take it I shouldn't look for the cabin to bring you home?" the fearful look on Conner's face was more than enough answer. "Don't worry - I will not. I simply had to be sure."

"That wasn't my home."

Ratchet was liking what was happening even less now. Who was this boy, and why had he moved around so much? Taking a deep breath, he nodded. "Whatever it was to you then... You don't have to go back. Not with bruises such as this," he explained, then shook his head. "I just needed to know if anyone would have missed you the past two days."

"Two days!?" Conner asked in surprise.

"Yes, two days," Ratchet replied. "You collapsed at the edge of the forest. We were unable to wake you up."

Conner breathed in sharply, probably taking that in now. Though to his surprise, Conner seemed to relax more than anything. Perhaps seemingly sure he had outrun someone? That was his thinking at the very least. "How far are we from the forest?" He asked quietly.

"Again, we're in the mountains. So a very great distance," Ratchet replied. "Do not worry, Conner. You're safe."

He was going to reiterate that in hopes the boy would believe him. Conner simply stared at the older mech for a long moment, but nodded his head. After a long moment, Ratchet pointed something out in a calm manner. "Conner, I'd like to point something out. And I only ask this because I'm a doctor, and I need to know," Ratchet explained. "Wounds on your legs, rear, back, and arms suggest you were sexually assaulted... More than once by my estimates, is that accurate?"

Conner seemed to tense up greatly at that, answering his question without needing to say a word. Ratchet felt as though he would be sick. This boy was barely a teenager and he'd been through several of these? In only about forty-eight hours by his estimates? What was the meaning of this? No child should be having such intercourse, or be damaged during it.

Conner looked at him after a long silence, and asked quietly. "Are you asking if I've been raped...?"

"I believe that is the informal human term for it, yes."

"... Yes." Conner managed even more softly.

"How many times? Because I hardly believe this is from one incident."

There was another deep silence as Conner inverted into himself. "Have you got anything to eat? I'm hungry..."

It was clear the boy was trying to dance around the subject. A fact which made Ratchet's spark fall a bit, because it told him that it was far more than once. All the same, he couldn't force their new friend to talk. "Yes, yes I believe that our human friends left some for when you woke up," the medic managed. "Let me go check on it."

As he moved over to make a com link, he could only contemplate where this boy have come from.  
\-------------------------------------

"If a pedophile had a hold of him long enough to rape him that much, I don't get how they got away with it."

The words reverberated off the walls as Jazz, Ratchet, Ironhide, and Optimus Prime all met later that day. The Autobot commander had asked to talk about it with Jazz and Ratchet while Ironhide was also curious. But Jazz could already tell that the two of them had questions before they even asked it. "What in the pit is a "rape"?" Ironhide asked. "Don't think ah've heard that human term before."

Jazz was silent as he looked at Ratchet. They both knew for separate reasons. As part of special ops Jazz had learned of the seedier pars of human history, and Ratchet, for medical reasons. "Rape is the act of forcing interfacing on another human being," the medic decided to explain himself. "Normally it is violent, as, again, the first individual is forcing themselves on the..."

"Wait a fragging second!" there was a snarl in Ironhide's voice. "Are you telling me someone forced that little boy to have intercourse with them!? What kind of disgusting fragging pit-spawned..."

"I'm afraid it was mostly one-sided given his damaged..."

Jazz shook his head, putting his hands on his hips. He wanted to give his two cents into this, despite the fact that he probably was a little less informed than Ratchet. "Like Ratchet said, they call people that do things like this pedophiles, from what I know. A group of people who enjoys the company of sparklings," he explained. "I've read that when they're caught they go to jail... But, well, not for as long as one would hope."

Ironhide felt his tanks churn in complete and utter disgust. While Optimus' optics had lost their usual calmness, turning into ones that appeared dark - something they only did when he was angry. " Forget jail! Humans that would do that to a child should be dead," Ironhide snapped. "How can people get away with this?"

Of course, Jazz knew they all looked at it from their culture's perspective. Cybertronian sparklings and younglings were both held in great reverence, by both Autobot and Decepticon alike. Violence against them was a horrible crime in and of itself. But the thought of forcing intercourse on them... Well, it had happened rarely, and they hadn't even had a word for it. But it was a crime that if you were to enact, you had better have hoped for a swift death.

Here on Earth, it was frowned upon, and seen as disgusting. And of course, it was a crime punishable by jail time. But from a species with such a culture it was just simply not enough. Optimus looked at Ratchet, trying to remain calm. "Did the boy say where this 'rape' occurred? Or who the perpetrators were?"

"He mentioned living in a cabin, and that it wasn't his home," Ratchet replied honestly, his voice cracking. "Outside of giving his name as Conner, that was about all I could get out of him."

"Ah'll be happy to hunt for that cabin," Ironhide replied, his voice loud and angry. "By the time anyone who lives there knows what hit 'em, they'll-."

Optimus held up a hand to stop Ironhide. Clearly, although emotions were running high, they couldn't simply jump to doing anything such as this. "As much as I agree justice needs to be served, Ironhide, we need more information," he explained. "We do not know that this "rape" actually took place there."

Jazz bristled a bit. "We could at least scope it out," Jazz explained. "... I've never heard of someone keeping a kid like that. A lot cases of them killing their victims, but not that. But suppose that's exactly what happened."

"Which is consistent with my theory it happened multiple times."

Jazz nodded his head, leaning towards believing Ratchet's belief in regards to that. "I say we go and find out what we can. We know this cabin's in the forest somewhere," Jazz replied. "Maybe if we can get the li'l fella to give us some sort of location we can go and scope it out. If it ain't where he was kept, maybe it's his creators. They'd probably be worried sick."

But inside, they all had a feeling that they wouldn't find that. If this boy was too afraid to speak, who knew how long he'd actually been kept there. "I still insist we learn more of his situation first. So that we do not put the child in danger," they could at least all agree there. "Is he comfortable in the medical bay for the moment, Ratchet?"

"Hard to tell, he barely talks," Ratchet admitted. "But he seems to be."

Optimus nodded his head in response. Then added, rather firmly. "Then he shall stay in there until we have earned his trust. Then perhaps we can get him to open up," he explained, then added. "Until we know more about how he came to be in this predicament, I suggest we do not inform human authorities of his presence here..."

"We'd be interfering then." Ratchet piped up.

"Even so, we cannot be sure who it is that held this child. If they indeed have," Optimus explained, clearly not backing down on the subject. "Nor do we know how quickly they could take him back. So until we are able to make a clear decision on how to help him, he will remain here. His abductors, if that is what they are, will be hard pressed to find him here."

"Ah agree with Prime," Ironhide replied. "We got the room. And if he feels safe he'll probably be more keen to open up."

"That goes the same for me."

Ratchet sighed quietly, seemingly frustrated at being outvoted. After a long moment, he finally nodded his head slowly. "Very well, I guess that's that then," Ratchet placed his hands on his hips and then added. "For the moment, I do need to go check on him. Make sure he hasn't hurt himself and all."

Jazz immediately asked. "Can I see the li'l guy? I still want to see that he's OK."

Ratchet looked thoughtful at Jazz. But after a long moment of thought, he shook his head. "I'll let you see him tomorrow, but he is still very weak and scared," he replied, a comment that Jazz understood but felt disappointed by. "Tomorrow, I'll let him have minimal visitors, and we'll move on from there."

"As you wish," Optimus nodded. "I will relay all of this to Prowl upon his return from patrol."

As they all broke off, Jazz quietly thought over all they had learned. A part of him wanted to just transform, and take off in search of this cabin. But at the same time, he also knew that they were probably doing the right thing,waiting. But he swore to himself that if there was someone out there in a cabin, getting away with this...

By Primus, he'd make sure that whoever they paid for this.


	3. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jazz and Conner meet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go! Again the outpouring about this fic just means so much! You're all so welcoming, thank you!

CHAPTER 3  
Introductions

"Hey li'l fella! How you feelin'? My name's Jazz."

Conner felt a little scared by the friendly looking white mech as he entered the room. He was the first Autobot he'd met since he'd woken up the day before, and given he had no idea of their intentions... Well, who knew what he could expect. They claimed he was safe there, and that they would protect him. But who knew if he could trust any of them - especially one where he could only see a visor, and no eyes or optics as he called it.

Yet, somehow he did like the way the mech seemed to give a friendly smile, and a calm aura.

That didn't mean he'd keep his guard down, however. Especially not as he carefully approached the medical berth, which made him back up a little. "'Ey, easy there, Conner. I promise, I'm not here to hurt you. I ain't a fragging monster - I don't touch or hurt sparklings," Conner deduced it was their word for kids. "I uh... Just wanted to see you, y'know. I was the one that found you in the forest."

Conner's eyes traced the mech's face as he realized this was the mech that supposedly saved his life. After a long moment, he decided to ask the question racking his brain. "Why did you bother? I'm not even your species," it was a question he found viable. "You could have just-."

"Left you there to offline? Shoot, kid! I ain't sparkless!" Jazz explained, his voice filled with shock. "You were laying there half-dead, like I was gonna turn the other way? Shoot, no! I'm just glad I wasn't too late."

Conner didn't respond to that, unsure of how to. Jazz however, seemed intent on being very friendly. And after a moment, he brightened even more. "Hey! I almost forgot. I went to the human city with my friend, Spike, earlier. I got you something!" the mech dug in his subspace a good moment before nodding. "Ah, here we go... Uh think of it as a get well present... Or some sorta gift of good will."

Conner was surprised as the mech gently set a small stuffed bear on the berth. It was a nice one, not too big, but not too small, and brand new. This was unusual to Conner, as "gifts" he got from anyone were usually old and raddy, and when he was still a small child - used to lure him into a false sense of security. But this was new, clearly bought at a store, and with good intentions behind it.

He watched a full four minutes before responding. Making sure at first that it was an actual gift, and not such a lure. But once Jazz had simply stood there all that time, he took the bear. It was as soft as it looked, and as he pulled it to his chest, it was squishy too, with lots of stuffing it seemed. "T... Thank you," Conner replied quietly. "For saving me... I guess. And this. But you probably shouldn't have bothered."

Jazz shook his head. "Of course I should have saved ye..."

"Not a lot of me left to save, if you didn't notice," Conner replied honestly. "You all should have left me... I'm not worth it. They all say I'm not worth anything..."

"Who all?" Jazz asked, his voice seemingly filled with a bit of anger. "The same people that left you like that? Because if it was them, you can forget what they said. They're sick, and deserve to be put in jail."

Conner knew it was true - of course. After years, they had been the constant adults in his life - the pedophiles, the slavers, the abusers. But he knew it wasn't the norm. He knew that out there were adults who loved and cherished their kids. Some of his owners had them, in fact, when it came to the slavers. To them, kids like Conner weren't "children", but often property.

It made it hard to know who to trust in that way. Even if he went back into the world, how would he know who to trust? How would he know by how they treated other people if they weren't behind closed doors a deranged monster? How could he ever learn to really trust again? He felt tears sting his eyes at that moment. Realizing that with all they'd said, even if he went back to the parents who supposedly loved him, he couldn't even trust that the words of the many people who passed him around weren't true.

The words of them reverberated in his head.

So many asked if anyone was going to be missing a kid like him. If they needed to change his name, or anything like that. But the ring that he was passed around in had said that it was a very low chance. Despite their attempts to find him in the news that they were the ones who sold him to his supposed kidnappers. That they would never actually go looking for him again.

Was it all lies, or could he really never even trust his own parents?

He felt a finger touch his cheek, and nearly pulled back. Except he noticed the finger never moved anywhere else, no, instead the giant one rubbed it carefully. "Hey, it's alright, kid," Jazz told him, of course he was the owner of the giant digit. "I know you may need to leak... I hear it's good to healin'. But I promise ye, everything's gonna be alright. We'll take good care of ye. And then when ye decide to tell us more, we're gonna help ye."

Could anyone really help him though? Conner wasn't very sure on the matter. Sure, these were giant robots who could probably crush his abductors without a single thought. But that didn't make the monsters left in the world go away. "Can anyone help me...?" Conner replied shakily. "Even if you really want to..."

Jazz was silent at that, but after a moment smiled. "I don't know, buddy. But we're gonna try," he promised the scared young man. "You can trust the Jazz man. I've taken down a lot of creeps in my day. And I promise ye, these guys are gonna be on my list if they can be."

Conner looked up at Jazz with such hope that he was right. Sure, it wouldn't make every monster disappear. But if these people could somehow pay for what they did to him? Well, at least he'd feel a little safer then. But he didn't want to get his hopes up either. Jazz seemed so genuine in the way he was approaching him. And Conner was at least leaning towards the fact that the mech would not hurt him...

But the fact he was a good person didn't mean that he could do anything about it. After all, how many people had probably tried as he remained missing for all those years? "I want to believe you," he explained. "But I don't know if you can do anything... Even if you wanted to, Jazz."

"Neither do I, kid," Jazz replied, a smile on his face. "But it won't stop me, or us, OK?"

Conner could only nod, though as Jazz took his finger back, he felt a slight bit better. As weird as it was, for the first time, he had a feeling he'd never thought he'd have again. Hope. This mech had given him the hope that perhaps they could help him...

If he was as lucky as he seemed, that is.

\-----------------------------------

"I think I actually got through to the kid a bit."

"That's a good thing, at least, but don't jump to conclusions. You still don't fully know what this boy went through."

Jazz knew that Prowl was probably very right about that. But he still wanted to believe that he could get through to this kid. He seemed so pained, and horrified about everything. Something which made him want to keep him safe and moreover, help him. Of course, this was because of his nature... He'd always loved sparklings and younglings, and the thought of one being treated in such a manner sickened him.

He leaned forward and put his fists under his chin as he looked over at Prowl from their seats in the rec room. "I just want to help this poor kid. Frag it, Prowl, it's so cruel," he explained, clearly upset. "The way he acts he must have been hurt like this for years."

Prowl's optics narrowed. "The thought is disturbing."

"I'm trying to do research and find out if this happens. I didn't even know pedophiles kept some kids," Jazz replied, his voice cracking. "It sounds like slavery to me... But slag, do you think that humans actually keep people around for that kind of slavery?"

Prowl leaned back a bit, crossing his arms. "As an enforcer, I saw cruel things done to sparklings. And that's not even speaking on the slave trade. Of course there were few of them in slavery," Prowl explained. "Since we all know what happened if you hurt a sparkling - especially at that time. But it could happen, if they really were this mentally ill and decided they needed an outlet."

Jazz felt sick at the thought of that. Sex slaves, he would think, would be a barbaric thought, especially when they were children. But at the same time - he had a feeling it was exactly what happened. Among other things, if he really was kept for so long. Whose to say that was the only service he gave for these men? For other men? For women?

After a long moment, he sighed, looking back at him after a moment. "I can't imagine that was the only thing he did either. Humans kept slaves for labor too in history," Jazz informed Prowl. "I doubt that he was just used for pleasure. As sick as it sounds."

"I hate to say you're right. But you likely are," Prowl explained. "I've done my own research, you know."

Jazz nodded, but hated the thought that Prowl agreed with him. He usually liked that, but right now, well, that was a bad thought... "I really wanted to believe the humans were better than this Prowler. But the more I read the more I realize they can be real monsters," he explained. "And now this..."

Prowl shook his head, putting a hand on Jazz's shoulder quietly. It wasn't much, but really, Prowl had some trouble comforting others at times. "I understand... There's a reason why I had some trouble as an enforcer myself," he explained, being honest about it. "Truly heinous crimes are very hard to get out of your mind."

"I don't even know if I'm gonna recharge tonight after seeing what state he's in," Jazz replied, his voice filled with frustration. "How the frag can this creep behind it do it?"

"You don't know that he does."

Jazz huffed slightly, doubting that he didn't. After all, he was able to carry on with this for who knew how long. Standing to his feet slowly, Jazz turned his head toward Prowl. "I really want to go find that cabin. Go find out what's really going on there," he explained. "If there was this one kid, who knows if there are more."

"That would be going against Prime's orders, something I do not recommend," Prowl explained, as his best friend, he'd rather not see Jazz go out of his way to sabotage himself. "Furthermore, you don't know what this might do. You could scare off the human occupants, and then what? We may never find them if he was kept there."

"... I hate when you're right."

Jazz started out of the rec room after that, his frustration mounted. "Where are you going then?" Prowl asked.

"Outside, I may not be able to do that, but I need some fragging air," Jazz replied with a voice that said that he wasn't to be stopped. "I'll be back later."

It would probably take all of his energy not to go looking. But at the very least, outside he could at least take out his frustration with the unfairness of this whole situation.


End file.
